Hyacinth

by Chris Keniston

  Chapter Two

  “So what’s the verdict?” Katie asked.

  Of all the possible worst case scenarios Cindy could think of, this was most definitely not one of them. The x-rays were clean as a whistle. “Looks like the dislocated joint is her only problem. Possibly mild concussion. When she wakes up from the meds I gave her all she’ll be is a little sore. I’d like to observe her overnight, but tomorrow I’ll take her back to find the rest of her family.”

  Katie nodded. The woman, God bless her, had insisted on closing the One Stop in order to help Cindy transport the animals and keep the little guy calm.

  The mama fox had only been stunned. Lethargic and eyes glazed, she’d started to come to just as Cindy had given her a tranquilizer. Unlike humans that a doctor would want to keep alert to determine injuries, veterinarians did not have that luxury with wild animals. In this case, she was pretty sure it was all going to work out for everyone.

  “Good. I’ll keep my eyes open. And when you’re ready to let mama out, I’ll be there to help.”

  In her pocket, Cindy’s cell vibrated. The sheriff’s office. She tapped speaker phone. “Hello?”

  “Hi Doc, it’s Nadine. Sorry to bother you so late in the day, but since this call that came in is out on your family’s property, and the sheriff would just have to call you anyhow, I decided to cut to the chase.”

  A lot of things could be said about Nadine, but getting to the point was rarely one of them. Cindy couldn’t fathom what would be happening on her grandfather’s property that would require her or the county police. “What have you got for me?”

  “One of the cabins, Aspen, says they have a mountain lion trapped inside.”

  “They said what?”

  Nadine chuckled. “Yeah, that’s what the guy said. He must not know there aren’t any mountain lions this far northeast, but something’s growling under the bed and if it is a bobcat, you’ll need to tranquilize it to take him or her back where it belongs.”

  “Got it.” The Aspen cabin was where the hermit had been hiding out. According to the little information her grandfather had shared, he was from someplace down south or west. She had no idea if the man knew his bobcats from his mountain lions, or any other dangerous animal, but Nadine was right. Any trapped animal could be very dangerous. “I’m on my way.”

  “Sounds like you’re having a busy day,” Katie said.

  “Ain’t that the truth. I’ll drop you off on my way.”

  “And then when you’re done you can tell us if we’ve got Cyrano de Bergerac or the Phantom of the Opera staying at the cabin.”

  Cindy smiled. If the guy wanted her to get whatever was trapped inside out, he’d have to let her in. “Will do.”

  It didn’t take long to drop Katie off at the One Stop and wind her way around to the most isolated cabin on Hart Land property. This guy definitely must like communing with nature. Unlike the other cabins, there was little chance of running into another guest or a family member unless you went out of your way to do so.

  The place was completely quiet. If she didn’t know there was someone inside, she certainly couldn’t tell from looking at the place. Windows and doors closed, the thin trail of smoke from the chimney was the only sign of life. Taking a few extra minutes, she walked around the cabin looking for tracks that would imply anything bigger than a chipmunk had moved its way into the house. For a short while she pondered if this guy would know the difference between a possum, a skunk, and a bobcat if they stood in a police lineup.

  On the front porch, she looked inside one window, peering through the slit in the curtains. The place did not look like it had been torn up by a trapped animal. The table was covered in papers, plates, drinking glasses, and an open laptop. She moved to the other end of the porch, stopping at the first window with another opening in the curtains. The living room looked fine. Except for one thing. Blinking twice, she rubbed the dirt away from the glass. What had she stumbled into? From behind, she could not tell if it was a man or a woman, but someone was tied to a chair. And she’d bet her last dollar no bobcat or mountain lion had done that.

  Cell phone in hand, she quickly snapped a picture of what was inside and immediately sent it off to Nadine with a quick text: Better send the sheriff and the EMTs. I’m looking for signs of anyone else. Tiptoeing softly around to the other side, she searched for a window with a view to the inside, but nothing.

  Her phone buzzed, and she knew it had to be Nadine. Look my ass. Get out! Cavalry is on its way.

  For once, she would agree with Nadine. Lying low until backup arrived was not a bad idea.

  “May I help you?” A deep voice wafted over her shoulder.

  Her heart stammered and she damn near peed her pants. Slowly she spun around. With the sun at his back, she couldn’t see the face that went with the tall silhouette. The only thing stopping her from freaking out was knowing that any second help would be here. “I, uh. I’m, ah, here about the trapped animal.”

  “It’s under the bed, but you can’t go in there.”

  Any other circumstance and she would’ve stood straight up, stared him in the eye, and said the hell I can’t. But at the moment she merely held up her veterinary bag and wished this mountain weren’t so big.

  It didn’t take long for the guy to put the pieces together. “You’re Animal Control?”

  She shook her head. “I’m the vet. The police called me.” The police? For the first time since stumbling across the victim inside, it dawned on her if this guy were guilty why would he call in the police? “Is this your cabin?”

  “Sort of. I rent it. But I am the idiot who let the wild animal inside.” Not the answer she would’ve expected from a mass murderer or kidnapper, or all-around crazy person. “I guess you want to go inside?”

  Did she? Now that she’d had time to think things through, something was not adding up.

  Not waiting for her to answer, the guy spun about and walked around the corner. Something else that didn’t add up. If he wanted another victim, why would he turn his back on her? None of this made sense, but as long as she had backup coming, she might as well find out what the heck was going on.

  ***

  He didn’t have a problem with the female veterinarian. He didn’t have a problem with a female anything, but this woman looked ready to jump out of her own skin. Not exactly the personality type he would expect to treat sick and injured animals, and certainly not what he’d expect the police to send to deal with a wild animal. He also did not understand why in heaven’s name she’d gone snooping around the house instead of just knocking on the door.

  Even though he’d known whatever animal he’d trapped in the bedroom would not be able to open the door, he’d felt better waiting for help outside. Though he’d stayed close enough to spot when someone arrived, the brief walk around had done wonders to calm his pounding heart. Now, pushing the front door open, he wished he hadn’t been in such a hurry to escape. At least not without taking a minute to put Harvey in the closet. Not that he couldn’t explain why Harvey was strapped to the chair, he just didn’t want to. Whether in the Northeast, the Southeast, the Midwest, or wherever, small towns were small towns. Maybe if he stood just right, he could block her view long enough to hide Harvey. “It’s in the bedroom straight down the hall.”

  Almost stuck at the threshold, the veterinarian looked down the hall to the table on her left, then at him blocking her view of the small living area, then back down the hall again. Slowly, she took a step inside, and rather then moving straight for the trapped animal, she intentionally looked around his shoulder, straight at Harvey.

  “He’s a project.”

  Though she stared at the dummy, her stone-faced expression was not what he had expected. Then again, she was a veterinarian, in the middle of the woods. Perhaps finding a life-size dummy strapped to a chair wasn’t the oddest thing she’d ever run into. And what did that say about life being stranger than fiction.

  “The animal is that way.
” He pointed again down the hall.

  She nodded, and pulled out her phone. “I need to make an important call, hang on.”

  He had no idea what was suddenly more important than a wild animal trapped in his bedroom, but hang on he would.

  Turning her back to him, she mumbled into the phone. All he could make out was every other word. “Fine… I’m sure… No, that won’t be necessary… Yes, I’m sorry… I will… I promise… I know, Nadine… Okay.”

  “Is everything all right?”

  “Yes. I suppose it is.” Pulling a flashlight and what looked like a small handgun out of her bag, she marched down the hall.

  As unsettling as having his temporary home invaded by a wild animal had been, he hoped that wasn’t an ordinary pistol. While he didn’t want the animal in his home, oddly, he didn’t want it hurt either. “You will be careful, won’t you?”

  Slowly she looked over her shoulder at him. “Yes.”

  Torn between his grandfather’s code of chivalry and self-preservation, he very slowly followed behind her. While every survival instinct wanted him to retreat to the outdoors again, he would never again be able to face his grandfather if he let that woman go in after the animal alone. Not that he would be much help, even if he had once again snatched hold of the broom.

  Inching the door open only a sliver, the veterinarian peeked into the room and listened. Silence greeted her and he wondered if somehow the animal had gotten out. She edged the door open wider, and holding the weapon straight out in one hand, crouched low to the ground and turned on the flashlight.

  A heavy sigh filled the room. Putting the gun and flashlight aside, she pushed to her feet and strode quickly to the bed, shaking her head. It didn’t take a genius to interpret her frustration to mean he did not have a lion or a bobcat hiding in his room.

  On her knees again by the nightstand, she reached into her pocket, and pulling her hand out, held it palm open in front of her. “Come on, Sophia.”

  Sophia?

  She shook her hand, and a large furry head eased its way out from under the bedframe and sniffed at the contents. Once again, he was torn between grabbing her away from the large creature about to bite her hand off and hurry them to safety, and storming forth to do battle with whatever body was attached to that big head.

  “That’s a good kitty,” the woman cooed, petting the furry head. Once the treats in her hand were gone, she wrapped her fingers under its shoulders and pulled the never-ending animal out from under its hiding place.

  “What is that?” Half his brain shouted that’s a cat, you idiot, the other half shouted Monster.

  “Sophia belongs to Thelma Carson. Though I’m not sure what she’s doing this far from home.”

  “What is this cat on? Steroids?”

  The vet shook her head. “Sophia’s a Maine Coon.”

  He’d read enough to know that was a cat breed, but somewhere he must’ve missed the chapters that said the cat was the size of a large lion cub. And obviously, more friendly, because he could hear the thing purring halfway across the room.

  “I'd better get Sophia back to Thelma.” Hefting the cat higher on her shoulder the way a mother might carry a toddler child, she pointed to the flashlight and gun. "Would you mind putting those in my bag for me, please."

  “Sure.” On closer inspection, he could see the pistol was some sort of tranquilizer but handled it carefully nonetheless. Bag in hand, he waved toward the front of the cabin. “I’ll follow you out.”

  The short distance from the bedroom to the porch, she didn’t say a word. Not until the animal was secured in an empty crate in the back of her vehicle did she turn and face him. “Thanks for your help.”

  Not that he’d done much. “Any time.” His gaze followed her as she walked around the vehicle and climbed into the front seat. With all the chaos, not till now had he taken note of the easy stride that came from long, lean legs.

  Nor the bright blue eyes that twinkled at him. “Also, you should probably put your project away. Some people might get the wrong idea.” The car door slammed shut and she backed out and drove off down the dirt road.

  He didn’t know about the wrong idea, but right now he had plenty of ideas bouncing around. Too bad none of them had anything to do with his project.

  Chapter Three

  “Well, my my.” Thelma retrieved Sophia from the carrier. “What are you doing with the doc?”

  “I wouldn’t mind knowing the answer to that myself.” Cindy reached out to scratch behind the cat’s ear.

  Thelma looked at her wide-eyed. “You don’t know?”

  “Well, I know how I got custody of Mr. Sophia. What I don’t know is how Mr. Sophia wound up under the bed at the Aspen cabin.”

  Thelma’s already rounded eyes circled wider. “Isn’t that the cabin with the stranger who won’t see anybody?”

  “That would be the one.”

  “Oh my.” Thelma put her cat on the ground and turned, grabbing Cindy by the arm and dragged her inside. “You have to tell me everything.”

  She might as well. Pretty soon the entire town was going to know she’d been on a run to rescue a cat and would be bombarded with questions. At least this way, Thelma would tell Louise who would tell Betty at the Cut and Curl as well as half the town and within five minutes of her leaving Thelma’s house, the entire mountain would know whatever she knew. “There isn’t much to tell.” Quickly she ran through the phone call that led her out to the cabin, skipped over the part about peeking through the windows, or how the man had scared her half to death when he came up behind her while she was peering through the dirty glass.

  “Did you see him?” Barely able to contain her enthusiasm, anyone would think Thelma was a six-year-old asking her closest friend if she’d seen Santa come down the chimney.

  “I did.” She sank into the nearest chair. “And I’m sorry to disappoint, but he does not look like Cyrano or the Phantom.”

  Thelma’s shoulders deflated as she dropped into a nearby chair. “Hmm. Is he really short? You know, like on the TV shows?”

  “No—”

  “Tall? Really tall?” Thelma cut her off again.

  “No—”

  Thelma’s face scrunched in thought. “Not tall, not short. Does he need a piano case to be buried in?”

  “No.” Where did Thelma come up with this stuff? Cindy held up her hand to stop the next barrage of questions. “He’s just an average man. Probably his mid-thirties. A little on the tall side but not much more than 6 foot. Average weight. Brown hair. Brown eyes. No wooden leg, no hunchback, no eye patch. Just an average guy.” She wasn’t going to tell one of the Merry Widows that in a Clark Kent sort of way, this average looking guy was actually quite handsome.

  “Then why won’t he see anybody? He doesn’t open the door for Katie when she delivers groceries. He doesn’t open the door when Lucy sends up a cooked meal.”

  “Maybe he wants to be left alone.” With his project.

  “Unless he’s Greta Garbo, no one wants to be that alone for an entire month.” Thelma tipped her head to one side. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “Well,” she hesitated, “you might say he’s eccentric.”

  “As in crazy?” Thelma shifted her head left and right. “You know, you could use a little crazy in your life.”

  “Me?”

  “Well, of all your sisters, you are the most serious. I suppose it may have something to do with having to deal with life-and-death more than most. Actually, that makes a lot of sense, since your cousin Heather was the most serious of the whole bunch of you until she fell in love with Jake. Yes,” Thelma nodded her head, “you could use a little crazy in your life.”

  “Now you sound like Lucy.” Besides, nobody needed that kind of crazy.

  “I like Lucy.”

  “So do I,” Cindy agreed vehemently, “but we don’t need any matchmaking. I can find my own man. And if I were to pick one, it most certainly would not be one with his…” She paus
ed. “Little oddity.”

  Staring at her, Thelma’s brows rose high on her for head. “How little?”

  Cindy really didn’t like contributing to the gossip mill, but then again if the man didn’t want his business to be known, he shouldn’t call the police and leave his project out in the open for anyone to find. And on top of that, if she didn’t want Lucy and the others playing matchmaker, she needed to lay all the cards out on the table. “He plays with dummies.”

  “Oh. Well.” Thelma leaned back, disappointment taking over her face. “Don’t we all?”

  “No. I don’t mean that kind of dummy. I mean the life-sized kind.”

  Disappointment shifted to obvious confusion. “What other kind of dummies are there?” All of a sudden, Thelma’s eyes flew open wide. “You don’t mean the inflatable kind?”

  “Close enough. This one wasn’t inflatable but from a distance it looked like a real person.” Real enough that she’d alerted the police to a non-existent crime.

  “You know, I saw a movie once about that. This man was in love with a mannequin. Boy was his sister surprised to find out she wasn’t real.”

  “I’m not sure love has anything to do with this.” Fetish maybe. Neurotic possibly. Psychotic very probably. As a matter of fact, she should talk to the General about this character’s background. She and Sophia may have gotten out alive, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still a threat to the community.

  Thelma waved her hand. “I can see the wheels turning. Share.”

  Odds were, Nadine the dispatcher had already shared Cindy’s text alert. “The dummy was tied to a chair.”

  Silence loomed as Thelma considered Cindy’s words. “Do you think he’s into M&Ms?”

  It was all Cindy could do not to laugh. And she certainly had no intention of explaining the difference between M&Ms and BDSM to a woman who played cards almost nightly with Cindy’s grandmother. “Maybe.”